


Rounds

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode: s07e13 The Cold, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-24
Updated: 2006-04-24
Packaged: 2019-05-30 13:59:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15098087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Josh decides to break the tension after the kiss





	Rounds

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Rounds**

by: luv2teachny 

**Character(s):** Donna Moss, Josh Lyman  
**Pairing(s):** Josh/Donna  
**Category(s):** Romance   
**Rating:** TEEN  
**Summary:** Josh decides to break the tension after the kiss  
**Spoiler:** 7-13 The Cold  
**Written:** 2006-03-18  
**Author's Note:** This is only my second time. Be gentle. Responses are welcome. 

I once asked Toby if he thought Santos was a long shot, and his response he was that Santos was a “Guam shot.” I laughed at the remark, but it did sting a bit. Why would it be so difficult to get Americans to connect with this man? Surely they will come to their senses and see what I see. He is smart, loyal, dedicated, and, from what I understand, quite the looker. If anything, I have had great luck at choosing political candidates and their running mates. So why then can’t I find a mate? I am smart, loyal, dedicated, and, from what I hear, quite the looker. Amy once told me that she loved fighting with me because I was an equal competitor; just as smart, just as fast, just as thrilled with the battle. Most of the time, I have to admit, she would be winning until I “brought the dimples.” It is an old trick used in childhood to get candy from my mom, used in college to get, well, other things from women. I used them with Amy to shut her up and, in most cases, get the prize I won in college. 

With Donna, though, it is different. It seems half the time she is impervious to the smirk, to the dimples, to the whole show. I would try and fail on a regular basis to woo her out of coffee or an extra hour (or two) of work. Sometimes she would let me think the dimples won, but I realize now it was part of her master plan to control me. I am (was) the third most powerful person in Washington and I lose on a regular basis to a leggy blond from Wisconsin with a shady educational background. I am a two-time Ivy Leaguer for God’s sake and I lose every time. This time I plan on winning. 

Ever since “the key incident,” things have been a bit weird. We are still talking and laughing with the group, communicating about Santos about beating Vinick, but any other communication is gone. We don’t laugh anymore. We politely smile, nods heads passing in the hallway, and share glances at one another when we think the other is not looking. It sucks. I miss Donna. I don’t mean assistant Donna, but friend Donna. That is going to change. 

As I knock on her room door, I look around to see if any staffers are close at hand. The close seems to be clear, but I hope she opens the door soon. Through the small crack at the bottom of the door I see her shadow and through the peephole I see darkness. She is looking at me, deciding if she should let me in. Whatever argument she was having in her mind ended, as she unlocks the door to let me in. 

“What do you want, Josh?” 

“Well, that’s a loaded question isn’t it?” I smirk. No response. 

“Josh, it is 1:00 in the morning. We have been up since five a.m.; we flew from California to Denver to Long Island, spoke at two dinners, and finally got here at 11:00. I am tired and apparently a bit cranky. Surely whatever it is can wait until we get to work tomorrow. So, if you don’t mind, I would like to go to bed now.” With this she walks back to the door and begins to turn the knob. 

“I just wanted to tell you something.” 

“Can it wait? I really don’t have any inclination right now to talk politics.” 

“Oh, it is not about politics.” Smirk with a bit of dimples. She cocks her head to the right, contemplates her decision, gives me a half annoyed-half interested smile, and sighs. Round one: dimples. 

“Fine, Josh. You have ten minutes. Go.” 

“Well, I thought we should talk about, well…the kiss.” 

“Josh, please. I said only ten minutes and this is going to take a hell of a lot longer than ten minutes.” 

“Donna, no it won’t. In fact, it can be summed up like this: The kiss was not inappropriate, it was fabulous. It made me weak in the knees like some woman in a bad movie or a daytime soap opera. That is embarrassing to say but true. It made me realize that I should have kissed you a long time ago. It made me realize that I need to kiss you everyday of my life because I love you. I LOVE YOU. There, I said it, I LOVE YOU.” 

“Wow.” 

“Yep.” 

“Wow” 

“Yep.” Now I give it to her: full fledged smile with the big dimples. Round two: 

“You’re an asshole.” 

”Wait, what? I’m an asshole?” 

“Yes, Josh, you are an asshole. Why are you saying this now? Why couldn’t you wait? I am exhausted and cranky and, well, a bit smelly from travel. I always dreamed I would be beautiful for this moment, but instead I smell like chicken marsala and airplane!” 

Donna smirked, and then gave me one of those big toothy smiles that make me feel all warm inside. Round two: Donna. 

“Donna, I don’t care what you smell like. How do you feel about what I said to you?” 

“How do I feel? I love you too. I have always loved you. I loved the kiss. It was perfect. The only imperfection in the kiss was that Santos and Annabeth and Ronna and Bram walked in. I didn’t want the kiss to end.” She smirks at me again and then adds under her breath, but loud enough for me to hear her playful tone, “Asshole.” Big smile. Round three: Donna. 

Now I begin. “Wow.” 

“Yep.” 

“Wow.” 

“Yep.” 

“Donna, are we going to “wow-yep” for the rest of the remaining ten minutes I am allowed to speak to you or can I kiss you?” 

“Oh, you can definitely kiss me.” With this I give her a big dimpled smile and a little shoulder shrug. As I slowly move in to kiss her I am nervous. The kiss that happened before was unintentional and started in a moment of excitement. This kiss is intentional. Will it be as good? 

As we kiss I get weak in the knees again. I feel my heart racing and other parts of me waking up despite the late hour and physical exhaustion. Was the kiss good? Yep. As we break from the kiss, we look at each other and smile. Round four: we are both winners. 


End file.
